things that i think

Jingle Jangle

Sun, 26 Jul 2009 18:43:09 -0400

First of all, the next time I see I bird I’m going to ask it if they would like it if I pooped on their car. How rude.

I’m really just updating this because I realized while driving the other day that I have a real knack for turning decently popular classic rock songs into TV jingles for spin-off food products.

1. Tangled Up In Blue by Bob Dylan becomes Tiny Muffin Blues, for Mini-Muffins. The idea behind the product is that mini-muffins in this day and age are just too mini. Children are quite hungry these days, and are probably suffering from what we in the TV jingle for spin-off food product world call the “tiny muffin blues.” The remedy, is of course, larger mini-muffins, or perhaps mega-muffins, which are just giant versions of mini-muffins, a.k.a. muffins. Now, about getting Bob Dylan to let me use the song…

2. Eminence Front by The Who becomes M&Ms Bar, for the Mars corporation. This time, there are product ideas. You could either have a chocolate bar, with M&Ms inside of it, or perhaps a normal chocolate bar, coated in an M&M shell, with a regular sized M on it, like an M&M would have. If you took the second option, each bar could be a different M&M color, which you would get randomly in each package. The would obviously take the chorus of Eminence Front, and replaced, “It’s an Eminence Front, it’s a put on!” with “It’s an M&Ms Bar, they’re delicious!” How on earth could anyone turn that down?

A few other liner notes.

Siren Fest 2009 -

Pros: Delicious unlimited soda made with real sugar, The Blue Van, Grand Duchy, Ran into my friend Yana, Laura came, beautiful weather.

Cons: Micachu and The Shapes, no Lenny, too much of delicious unlimited soda.

Also, I went to Woodstock this weekend and bought at a flea market a cool antiquated Chinese chess set. That brings my collection of cool chess sets to an astounding two. I also got the final 50 state quarter, which brings the value of my collection to a whopping $12.50!

Before & After

Thu, 11 Jun 2009 00:44:57 -0400

One of my favorite things about Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune is the “Before & After category both shows use on occaision. Theirs are clever, but I like mine better:

Baby Got Back to the Future
Tom Cruise Control
The Fellowship of the Ring Tone
The Long and Winding Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Soup
The Big Bad Wolf Blitzer

I could go on for hours, but I won’t.

P.S. - Teacher? Check. Next stop, librarian!

Pensieve

Sun, 07 Jun 2009 23:18:34 -0400

Pensieve

Twitter

Sat, 21 Mar 2009 20:10:23 -0400

I don’t like Twitter. I find it to be too constricted, impossible to maintain consistent wit on, and otherwise too titillating for its own good. That said, I do enjoy imposters, and Twitter provides means for the sincerest form of flattery. Therefore, I’ve indulged in creating a twitter for my dear old friend Lenny .

Also, who isn’t talking about Twitter these days, I mean come on!

Seriously, though, folks. What the fuck is a tweetosphere? Do people hear themselves when say things like this. I’m not going to get up on any soap box to rant about the media and its obsession with twitter (too late,) but what the hell is with the obsession over 140 characters. Years from now, I hope we can look back at this and laugh. Say things like, “Boy, the economy wasn’t the only thing in a recession those days! Remember Twitter? We limited ourselves to 140 letters in order to prove up to the minute updates about mundanity! Heh - we didn’t even realize that the root word was twit!”

Alright. I’ve said enough. I don’t need to set the twitterverse abuzz.

I'm so stupid, pt. 2

Wed, 04 Mar 2009 16:45:40 -0500

No, I didn’t kill any plants this time. Worse.

I was signing up for my teaching certification online. Very official. Very important. I spelled my last name Misky. In case you didn’t know - that’s not my last name (It’s Mirsky.)

I had to fill out a form asking for a name change, and they asked me for the reason I was changing it. The options were marriage, divorce, legal name change, or other. I selected other, and filled in that it was a typo. They also asked the date of the official change… so I just put in my date of birth, because I suppose that was the last time my name changed - from nothing to Justin.

Anyway, I just felt like I had to share that story. It’s terribly embarassing, but too funny to remain private.

So I had to take this Child Abuse Seminar thing for my new job,...

Wed, 25 Feb 2009 01:00:10 -0500

So I had to take this Child Abuse Seminar thing for my new job, and the entire time I couldn’t stop staring at the company’s logo at the top right of the screen. A black man back-groping a little white boy…. Someone at the company needs to be fired.

Sermon to the Birds

Tue, 17 Feb 2009 22:51:00 -0500

My little sisters, the birds, much bounden are ye unto God, your Creator, and always in every place ought ye to praise Him, for that He hath given you liberty to fly about everywhere, and hath also given you double and triple rainment; moreover He preserved your seed in the ark of Noah, that your race might not perish out of the world; still more are ye beholden to Him for the element of the air which He hath appointed for you; beyond all this, ye sow not, neither do you reap; and God feedeth you, and giveth you the streams and fountains for your drink; the mountains and valleys for your refuge and the high trees whereon to make your nests; and because ye know not how to spin or sow, God clotheth you, you and your children; wherefore your Creator loveth you much, seeing that He hath bestowed on you so many benefits; and therefore, my little sisters, beware of the sin of ingratitude, and study always to give praises unto God.

Saint Francis of Assisi - c 1220

XYZ

Fri, 06 Feb 2009 15:21:00 -0500

Someone needs to write a book on proper open-fly etiquitte. There are just so many situations where people find themselves caught with their pants down, pun intended.

In one example, I look back at my student teaching experience. There was a boy in a 5th grade class, who constantly, all day, every day, had his fly down. It just got kind of frustrating. Obviously, you want to spare the child the embarassment, so you pull him aside quietly and tell him in private. You don’t make a big deal out of it. Just a little “psst” should do. Of course, when you quietly whisper “XYZ” and he looks at you with a blank stare, you realize subtlty might not be the best approach.

Eventually, I explained to the boy what XYZ stood for. This didn’t work though. He seemed to always forget to zip up. I decided to take a more furtive approach. One day, after school I took the boy aside and brought him into the bathroom. (Oh god, this story is starting to sound awfully incriminating.) In the bathroom, I showed him (oh god, oh god!) that I had taped up (wtf?) an index card with a big red letter “X” on it, at eye level, on the back side of the bathroom door (whew, that was close). The “X” of course standing for x-amine, so he could of course remember to zip up when returning to class.

For some reason, he didn’t appreciate this. He persisted to walk into class on a regular basis with his fly down, and when asked to fix it, now not as subtly, he just shrugged it off and said his zipper was broken. On every pair of pants.

There are ways of dealing with problems, and there are ways of solving problems. I suppose there are just some people who would prefer to shoot the breeze, pun intended.

This issue, I should mention, came to my attention, during an english class today, when I realized that my older, male professor was pontificating with his fly down. I couldn’t focus in class, because it was just… too distracting. Every moment, hoping, praying that his gangly old wing wang wouldn’t pop out in the middle of a discussion about naturalism in modern drama. I just wanted him to keep his Ibsen in Chekhov.

How can that situation be dealt with, though. In my twisted mind, it’s not something you can look past. The situation needed to be dealt with immediately. I considered being really obvious in passing a note, that he would have to intercept when he saw how obvious it was. The note of course, would just say “XYZ” on it, and he would get the message, and quickly fix it. Too contrived.

I mean - you don’t want to embarass a teacher in front of his or her class. I know that from experience. It’s just emasculating, and while he is a veteran who could easily deal with it, I couldn’t overtly tell him. I left the class relieved, but nervous. He made it through class without any sign of escaping, but I could only hope that he caught it before going to his next class. I just wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes that naturalism isn’t just what he’s teaching.

Writing to write

Thu, 05 Feb 2009 20:26:38 -0500

I haven’t updated with any actual content, aside from a picture of an enormous eclair, which I suppose you could say sums up my life quite succinctly. What an awful word to spell.

Lenny sent me a link to his tumblr that he set up as part of his humor writing class at Binghamton. He first entry denotes that he will try to write something in it daily. An exercise I suppose. I’m going to assume that the idea, while possibly Lenny’s, was most probably his professor’s. Or maybe it’s homework. I’m going to try to take that idea and make it my own - except I’m only going to update when I feel like it, and when I feel like it will be more often than it has been this past month.

I’m not student teaching anymore, so I don’t have anymore stories about tiny children submitting to my every whim. I did visit one of my classes recently, though, and the first thing that I asked was “When are you leaving?” Feel the love.

But I digress. I really wanted to talk about that eclair. It’s from Harold’s New York Deli which, if you check the website, you will see in tiny letters at the bottom of the main page that it is so conviently located in Edison, New Jersey. Yeah. That’s right. We all knew that New Jersey, more than every other state, strives to be like his cooler big bro New York - but this is just the not so subtle icing on the cake. You may be the home of the The Boss, but we’re the birthplace of him.

In more me-related news, along with the spectacular graphic novel class that I’m taking this semester, I’m also taking ice skating and badminton (and eventually raquetball, in a few weeks.) Initially I thought I would be an adept at ice skating - this, however, has proved to be false. While not terrible, I did spend the first two classes swatting at invisible ice flies while trying to keep from falling, and have now reached an ironic road block, in that I cannot figure out how to stop. Without the use of the wall, that is.

Badminton, or greatminton as I so affectionally refer to it as of this post, is ~~great~~ awesome. The word shuttlecock lends itself to hours upon hours of fun, and the game itself is fast-paced, intense, and a lot of fun. Definitely gooing to pick myself up a net/racquet for some cock fun this summer.

Alright. My mind feels exercised. Good post, Justin! Thanks! Yeah, it might be a bit of a ramble, but it’s definitely a good start. You said it, pal. Time to read Watchmen for my 300-level English class. What! You lucky sonofabitch! Hah - you’re tellin’ me.

Chocolate Eclair from Harold’s New York Deli

Sat, 17 Jan 2009 19:07:19 -0500

Chocolate Eclair from Harold’s New York Deli

My music, 2008, created with the Last.fm stat generator. (Click...

Fri, 02 Jan 2009 15:45:47 -0500

My music, 2008, created with the Last.fm stat generator.

(Click pic to zoom)

FARK.com: Class of 09 finds out the hard way that the world needs garbage men too

Mon, 29 Dec 2008 01:54:21 -0500

FARK.com: Class of 09 finds out the hard way that the world needs garbage men too:

I always get weirded out when the real world collides with the internet one - this is no exception.

Congrats, Mark! There are people on the interwebs talking about you.

“Hands off my bread!” said Eric, misquoting...

Sun, 14 Dec 2008 19:02:00 -0500

“Hands off my bread!” said Eric, misquoting Falco’s taunt in Smash Brothers Brawl. The story: Trevor and I were going through the fridge before winter break, to see what we had to get rid of. What did we find? 6 separate packages of bread. It was white bread, which meant it couldn’t be mine, because I buy rye, and it couldn’t be his because he buys wheat. The guilty party - Eric. For some reason he had been buying lots and lots of bread. Don’t ask me why. He won’t explain to us. He said it’s better left to our imaginations.

Photo (from left to right): Smallest bread, next size up, a little bit bigger, twins, whole loaf, Captain Bread.

I was one damn fine baby. For those curious, my godfather is...

Sun, 14 Dec 2008 00:16:00 -0500

I was one damn fine baby. For those curious, my godfather is holding me, my dad is to his right. My mom can be glimpsed on the left. A note of scary proportions: My dad was only 28, my mom - 26.

Courtesy of Lenny’s del.icio.us.

Sat, 06 Dec 2008 20:19:00 -0500

Courtesy of Lenny’s del.icio.us.

Poinstupid

Fri, 05 Dec 2008 21:34:12 -0500

I am so unintelligent.

How unintelligent am I? I bought a Poinsettia to bring into my class, so I could show them the actual plant, after reading Tomie DePaola’s The Legend of the Poinsettia.

The only problem was, I left the plant in my car overnight, thinking it would be okay for about 15 hours. I also forgot that I’m currently situated in western New York. In December.

Lo and behold, I got into my car this morning and it had frozen to death. I tried giving it some of my delicious poland spring, and heating it with the car’s vents, but that just made it droop - and now my car kinda smells like cat litter.

I’ve been telling people all day that I left it by the window sil, so it would get sunlight, and when I woke up in the morning it was frosted over. That sounds a little less stupid.

I’ve learned my lesson though, and modeled after the wonderful Demitri Martin joke, I can safely say that I am less nurturing than a Walmart shelf. And dumber, too.

Houseboys

Tue, 02 Dec 2008 20:46:37 -0500

One of my students wrote a story today, and in it he kept refering to himself and his friends as “houseboys.” It didn’t seem integral to the story, but I had to know what a houseboy was. I need to be down with whatever’s hip, no?

“Shaquan, what’s a houseboy?” I asked pointing to the word.

“That says homeboy!” he answered.

Obviously.

Awesome

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 22:45:50 -0500

Although teacher by trade, I will also be graduating this May with an English degree. That gives me the right to complain about things like this.

“Awesome” is one of those words that over the years has lost all gravitas. Dictionary.com defines awesome as “inspiring or expressing awe.” Little Jimmy down the block defines it as “really cool.” I think of it as “really cool” and would not hesitate to say that most people define it that way. For that reason I think it’s time to drop the original definition and use it for what it has become, so as to avoid potentially silly sounding statements like this one from Secretary of Homeland Security Michael Chertoff on the announcement of Arizona Governor Janet Napolitano taking his seat under President-elect Obama come January. I quote:

“The men and women of this department have been keenly focused for more than a year on facilitating a smooth transition for the incoming leadership team. Janet is an excellent choice for Secretary of Homeland Security, and I look forward to working with her as she prepares for this awesome responsibility.”

I don’t know about you, but once I see awesome I have to read that like a surfer-dude teenager. Spicoli!

On that note, gay doesn’t mean happy anymore. Just drop it.

Before I go, I must also mention that I was thinking about silly things that shouldn’t be on resumes before, and decided mine will not in anyway have the words, “…graduated from the fictional University of….” I would like to find a way to include those words in that order somewhere, though.

Forty-Somethings on Facebook

Thu, 27 Nov 2008 13:49:00 -0500

Forty-Somethings on Facebook:

Facebook, although a relatively new phenomenenon, is something myself and my peers think of as a normal part of every day life. Taking it for granted as if it always has, and was always supposed to be there.

Then I started getting getting friended by my parents, aunts and uncles. This kind of put things in perspective. It’s a tool, not unlike a cell phone, that happens to make communication much easier, less appreciated, and in this case it happens to be absolutely free. (I’m assuming you’re stealing wireless and using a stolen computer, you scamp.)

The article by Varadarajan (that’s a mouthful,) helped me to put things in perspective, though. He points out that up until their mid 30s my parents were communicating with people via the snail mail. I’m going to take that one step further, though, and say that people weren’t communicating with each other that all. That is to say, my dad, did not speak to any of his old high school classmates or work associates, that is aside from the few he had formed true friendships with. Now, thanks to social networking, he has over 300 friends (more than me!) I know. I would be more ashamed, but he’s quite the butterfly.

(I would just like to note that in the middle of typing this my mom and I just got into an argument about why she won’t friend my dad. “He’d stalk me - ‘Why did you say this?’ ‘Who’s that person’ ‘What does this mean?’” She’s probably right, but at the same time, her argument furthers Varadarajan’s argument - that is, old people take Facebook very seriously.)

It makes sense, though, that my parents (and the like) would take Facebook personally. It’s something they can appreciate more than I can. I’ve grown up with computers and instantaneous communication without the use of a cell phone. I can treat Facebook like a toy, throwing it across the room or complaining when it breaks/changes layout. They’re going to treat it very carefully, not taking it for granted and making sure every word counts.

Unfortunately, this hurts the children. I now have to deal with the fact that my relatives update often enough to comprise 50% of my newsfeed. (Thank god for filtering options.) I can’t post a status update without my father commenting on it. I’m home for Thanksgiving - his response “Yeh!!!!!!” It’s “Yeah” or “Yay” - I hate to break it to you Dad, but “Yeh” is not a word. Also, stop commenting on my status updates.

However, it does have its benefits. I taught my parents to text this summer, so I wouldn’t have to sit through any long pointless voicemails asking me where I was at random times. Now, communicating with them can be done over facebook, in a simple and effective way. I’m even considering creating a “Mirsky” family facebook group, so we can all communicate with each other more easily, in case there are any important announcements to make. I realize, too, that when all my other Facebook friends have moved on and forgotten about me, my family will still write on my wall on my birthday.

So yeah, forty-somethings on Facebook has its downside, but in the long run I suppose it’s not a bad idea. Also, I hate when I’m critical of my 19-years-in-the-future-self.

Wow, that rant went on longer than I expected. Hopefully it’s coherent. Happy Thanksgiving!

A Brief History of a Short Amount of Time

Fri, 21 Nov 2008 20:18:00 -0500

A few ramblings that I couldn’t gestate into full updates:

1) I realize there a great deal more things that illustrate comfort level, but I believe this is the most crucial one to gaining my friendship. If I sing in your car, you’re okay in my book.

2) ~~Even~~ Especially sober, I still manage to spill on my shirt.

3) NBC.com is one of many network sites with awful video players. Theirs is especially awful because of the advertisements they run following each short video. Not only can you simply close out of the window to avoid them, but if you have the proper ad-blocking software, an error message will pop up in the video, asking if you would “Please turn off your ad-blocking program.”

I appreciate the politeness, but no, I will not.

4) In school today, a boy with autism in my classroom, out of no where, told me that I had angry eye brows. I guess that goes well with my evil haircut.